


In Hues of Purple

by se7ensecrets



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Rough Kissing, Sharing Clothes, i have a thing for taking the bossy dominate one and putting them on the bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 02:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4943209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/se7ensecrets/pseuds/se7ensecrets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This started as a prompt in which Clara stumbles upon Missy trying on her clothes... Whatever happened after that I can't be quite certain of.</p><p>"Missy may know the best way to get under her skin, but now her mark would brand the impish woman as something more. The physical memory of something she'd once claimed possession of."</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Hues of Purple

**Author's Note:**

> This continues somewhere after my previous story, "After Dark."

In search of a particular Time Lady after returning with the Doctor from another exhilarating adventure, Clara walked quickly down the corridors of the TARDIS and stopped at the open door of her designated bedroom.

"Missy, are you in here-..." Clara halted her speech and stopped dead in the doorway to their- ahem, her room. It was her room. No one else's. Just because Missy refused to use her own under several very lame excuses did not give her partial ownership.

Missy was standing in front of a full length mirror, her usual Edwardian inspired garb gone and replaced with one of Clara's casual dresses. Its skirt fanned out at the bottom and stopped just above the knee. She still wore her usual knee high leather boots, with a pair of black stockings that were usually hidden under the Time Lady's plentiful skirts.

She was surprised, shocked even, but pleasantly so. Missy in casual clothes wasn't something she was used to seeing. Her usual "uniform," as Clara liked to call it, always painted a very specific picture as to who the Mistress was, and that was anything but ordinary. But now she looked much like a modern day woman and it sparked something unexpected inside of Clara.

She took notice of her hair, which was down and dropped a few inches below her shoulders. Clara thought it created a much softer look to her usually more severe and eccentric hairstyle.

Clara swallowed audibly, aware of how dry her throat had become.

As the Impossible Girl's eyes continued to roam across Missy's figure, she was brought out of her reverie at the sound of the object of her scrutiny's voice.

"You should close your mouth, dear. I don't much enjoy kissing mouths with flies in them."

Clara quickly snapped her eyes up and shut her mouth, watching as the wicked Time Lady posed in front of her, one hand resting on her hip. Clara thought she looked decidedly enticing, as she felt her breathing begin to increase in tempo, unconsciously clenching and unclenching her hands.

Missy, having been no fool to the reaction she was having on the Doctor's current companion, quirked her lips into a feral grin and slowly began to step closer. Oh how she loved entangling this young woman in her intricate web. There was never a dull moment to be had when they played their little game.

"Now what does that say about you?" The Mistress hummed, "That you like seeing me in your own - really quite mundane - clothing? Do I detect a bit of narcissism, perhaps?"

At the glimpse of a challenge in Missy's eyes, Clara was more than willing to rise to the occasion. It was her turn to play the predator, and she was willing to do what she must to capture her prey.

The younger woman straightened up and spoke with her most commanding voice. "Call it what you want. Get on the bed."

Missy's brows shot up in mock surprise.

"Well well, look at you, taking the initiative," Missy teased, feeling tickled by her attempt at taking control and bounced lightly in front of her, causing her girlish dress to ripple and her hair to sway from the movement.

Clara lifted her chin in a defiant gesture, never losing eye contact with the cunning Time Lady as she stepped into her personal space.

"I don't think you understand," Clara spoke lowly, placing her hands lightly on Missy's hips and turning her, directing her back towards the bed.

Clara stopped once the backs of Missy's knees made contact with the mattress.

"Oh, I believe I understand very well, Miss Oswald," Missy had practically purred, watching her every move intently, feeling her own excitement grow.

"It would be in your best interest to do as I say, then, wouldn't it?"

Clara didn't wait for the Mistress to respond, instead pushed the older woman's body down on the bed, relishing in the look of genuine surprise on her face upon impact.

Missy propped herself up on her elbows and looked at Clara incredulously. Missy thought that she should kill her for that, but knew she wouldn’t. Or at least not today. Oh no, today was proving to be quite interesting indeed.

"Close your mouth dear, it's not polite," Clara mocked, finally feeling like the one in control and getting Missy back for her comment just a moment ago.

Missy lowered her gaze, with a look on her face that said she was a nano-second from a witty rebuttal, but Clara was quick to make sure none would come.

Quickly discarding her jacket and throwing it, she pounced, both thighs on either side of the infuriating Time Lady's and her hands grasping at her smooth, naked shoulders. Her mouth pressed eagerly against maroon tinted lips, possessing them with a hunger that surprised even Missy, who despite herself was momentarily having a hard time keeping up with the young woman's enthusiasm for her.

Clara sucked and bit at Missy's lips, determined to see them red and swollen, possibly even bruised later on from her ministrations. If this was anyone else, Clara would be concerned that she was being too rough, but she'd always been aware of Missy's affinity for pain. It was a curious thing, considering attributing Missy and masochistic tendencies was one of the last things you'd imagine to co-exist inside the manic woman. But luckily for Clara, it was one of the things she actually liked about her. It gave her an outlet for her ever growing frustration that was Missy. There had been a number of instances where she wanted more than anything to scream at Missy, declare that if she didn't stop what she's doing, she'd tie up her hands and gag her if she absolutely had to. But Clara knew that would be much more of an exciting prospect than a simple threat of detainment. She wouldn't have dared voice such perverse thoughts when the fear of Missy happily skipping off to fetch the rope were clear in her mind's eye.

Yes, the idea of shutting the Mistress up for once and finding a semblance of control over her, even just for a moment, was definitely an idea that floated around in the Impossible Girl's head more often than she'd like to admit. Her Mistress couldn't have her way all the time, not when she possessed a startlingly large amount of stubbornness and determination herself. And now knowing that it was indeed possible to have Missy right where she wanted her, she was damn well going to put it to many good uses.

Clara smiled on the inside as she listened to Missy hum against her mouth and almost squeal any time she'd bite down or tug too hard on her bottom lip. She delighted in Missy's nails digging into her shoulder blades. Every so often she'd run them down her clothed back and it sent shivers up her spine.

Removing her mouth from the older woman's, Clara grasped the dark hair at the back of the Time Lady's head and yanked it back to expose the long column of her pale neck to her gaze, eyeing the tendon below her ear.

Missy sighed at the feeling of Clara's tight grip on her scalp, her breathing labored and her twin hearts beating madly for the brown eyed woman who was quickly taking hold of her body and mind. She'd wanted this, but was never quite sure if the girl had it in her. She should have known that with her control freak nature it never would have been something left to her own private musings for long, even if she had to drive her to it in any way she could.

Clara watched with rapt fascination, the chest of the beautiful woman in her own quaint dress heaving lightly. She latched an eager mouth onto Missy's neck, licking and sucking, grazing her teeth along her pulse point before letting them bite down on the sensitive skin that resided there, where more colorful hues of dark purple were to bloom for her. Missy may know the best way to get under her skin, but now her mark would brand the impish woman as something more. The physical memory of something she'd once claimed possession of.

Missy mewled and raised her legs up to wrap around Clara's more petite hips, drawing her closer and disobediently rolling her pelvis up against her captors, needing the tension that had started between her legs long ago to meet some relief.

Clara reacted quickly to the movement and broke from her neck to lift herself away from Missy's body, "Ah ah! None of that," Clara spoke low and hoarsely, grabbing Missy's wrists and pinning them above her head with one of her hands.

"Don't you move them unless I tell you to," Clara ordered. "I mean it," she enunciated each word slowly.

Missy pouted and squirmed briefly, but obeyed. If someone had told Clara a few odd weeks ago that this was where she'd eventually end up, she would have figured them for a downright loony. But the Time Lady stared up at her with heavy lidded eyes, flushed cheeks and parted lips. Her legs now dropped open under her, and with her hands above her head she painted quite a picture of beautiful submission. It made Clara want to eat her alive.

She reached for the bottom of the dress, grabbed fistfuls and shoved it up till it was just below Missy's chest. Her eyes took in the stocking clad thighs, her silky black underwear, her-

Clara paused and blinked.

"You wear a corset?" Clara raised an eyebrow.

Missy wore a small, cream colored half corset that wrapped around her midsection and stopped an inch or two below her breasts.

"Yes, I enjoy the... constriction." Missy's eyes gleamed and she inhaled as she stretched upwards, almost cat-like, and sighed when she felt the garment tighten around her body as she let her breath out.

"Do you want to keep it on?" Clara asked, pondering the possibilities. She let her hands smooth over it, grasped both sides of her waist and pulled Missy's groin up to meet hers for the barest of moments, practically gleeful when it produced another strangled gasp from the steely eyed Time Lady as the strings of her bodice strained.

Missy opened her mouth to respond, only to have the younger woman's palm pressed to her mouth.

"No, don't answer that."

Missy wanted to roll her eyes at the indecisive human, until small but strong hands were tugging the corset open forcefully. She looked downward to watch the scene that was her bodice being ripped apart. Clara had made quick work with the tie that held the ends together at the top, not bothering with pulling each string out of it's respected loop. She wanted it off and she didn't care for decorum. The strings loosed until they fell free from their entanglement, allowing both sides of the stiff material to completely part ways.

At the sight of Missy's smooth, flat stomach, Clara bent her head and pressed her lips between her ribcage. She tailed them downward, planting open-mouthed kisses over the expanse of creamy skin, humming her arousal as her eyes flicked up to focus on Missy as she arched her back, letting out a breathy moan as she did. Her hands skittered up past the bunched fabric of the dress and cupped the breasts that resided under it, feeling the peaks of Missy's nipples poking through, seeking her hands undivided attention.

As her lips reached the black silk of her underwear, they caressed over the material, feather light kisses trailing further down until they met with a familiar dampness. Her nostrils flared and Clara wasted no time in discarding the garment then, all but ripping them from her hips as Missy giggled manically and dragging them down her legs past thigh highs and leather boots.

Clara perched at the end of the bed, clasping Missy's spread thighs in both of her hands. She took a moment to take in this normally infuriating woman's image that was laid out before her, just in case this scenario were to never repeat itself again.

Missy was outstretched, having kept her hands above her head just as Clara had told her. "What a good girl you've been," Clara said with a knowing smirk in her voice and admired her view. She knew she was pushing it with that, but she couldn't help it. It was much too good to pass up and it greatly amused her. If they had been in any other situation, Missy would have disintegrated her on the spot. She also found it excited her knowing that Missy wouldn't kill her for it, that maybe she even enjoyed being called Clara's 'good girl' in this scenario. The thought sent a thrill through her, her adrenaline race and her sex twitch.

Clara stared up into Missy's face as she raked her nails down her inner thighs none too gently.

"Please, darling," Missy hissed, tossing her head to the side, biting her lip in an attempt to silence herself from any further begging. Her legs shook when Clara's nails reached the juncture where her thighs met her arousal.

"Are you ready for me?" Clara teased, one eyebrow raised, enjoying the way she could see Missy clench at the thought as the tips of her fingers skimmed on the outskirts of her over-excited sex.

Clara hadn't intended on waiting for an answer. She hooked her arms around the Mistress's thighs and bent down, quickly covering the length of her with her mouth, then dragging her tongue from her wet entrance all the way to her swollen clit.

Missy had let out a small shriek in surprise by the sudden feeling of a warm and eager mouth on her, and unconsciously released her hands to bury them in her young lover's hair. She watched, entranced as Clara splayed her slick tongue against her sex, stopping at the top of it to swirl around the place she yearned for it the most, before retreating back down. She repeated this action several times until her slim fingers rubbed against her opening, teasingly pressing in with just the tips of her fingers.

"I'm going to go madder than I already am if you don't fuck me," Missy gritted between her teeth to the busy head between her legs.

Feeling victorious, Clara smiled against her Mistress and slipped two fingers inside, thoroughly loving how she immediately clenched and shuddered around them. She started a steady rhythm as she snaked her tongue back up through her drenched lips and captured her throbbing clit between her lips, swirling her tongue around it continuously and sucking to her desire's content.

Missy grunted and bucked her hips up into Clara's mouth, unable to control herself any longer, holding the young woman's face more firmly against her.

Clara heard Missy's voice start to waver, it reaching a higher and higher octave as the seconds ticked away. Nothing was coherent. She sucked harder, pressed deeper, dug nails further into soft thighs until suddenly her ears heard nothing but "Clara" between broken whimpers and gasps. A hand fist into her short hair almost painfully as she felt Missy's soft walls convulse around her digits and her thighs shake in her arms. Clara looked up to see the Time Lady's back bowed and her head thrown back as she rode out the remainder of her orgasm.

As she felt Missy's hand leave her hair, Clara lifted from her spot between the Time Lady's legs, licking the mess around her mouth and lips with her tongue nonchalantly before re-positioning herself beside Missy's panting and sated body.

Missy hadn't opened her eyes, which was alright with Clara, because it gave her a moment to study her Mistress's face. She ran her fingers lightly over her bruised lips, just before reaching for a lock of her mussed hair and placing it behind her ear.

"What are you thinking?" she whispered, almost feeling as if she was disturbing the older woman's rest.

Blue orbs appeared under heavy, smoke colored lids, "That I should consider a wardrobe change."


End file.
